A second later, a dark shape swept up from the side of the building and over the glass wall. It landed on two clawed feet a foot or so from me, and for a moment, I really wished I hadn’t been able to see the imp.

The thing must’ve fallen down a demon tree and hit every ugly branch on the way down. It looked like a giant, walking bat as it lifted nearly translucent wings and screeched.

I slammed the iron dagger deep into its chest. “Dumbass,” I muttered as the demon went up in flames.

Imps were notoriously violent and their claws were quite toxic to humans and Wardens, but they weren’t exactly known for their intelligence, as just proven.

Yawning, I pivoted and started back toward the door, dreams of the soft, Zayne-scented pillow occupying my thoughts. I made it two steps when a shadow dropped out of the sky, landing on the roof with a hard thump, and then another and another—

Seven imps stood in front of me, their bodies hunched. Maybe eight.

I skidded to a stop, my eyes widening as one of them hissed. Imps never traveled alone. I’d forgotten. “I’m the dumbass,” I whispered, backing up as my grace throbbed inside me.

One of them lurched forward, and I hit the floor of the roof. Its outstretched arm swept over my head, and I popped up, shoving the dagger into its back. Heat blew back at me as I whirled, jabbing the dagger into the chest of another.

Flames erupted as a wing cut through the air, slamming into my side, and knocked me sideways. I tripped over a lounge chair that seriously came out of nowhere, landing in...plush grass.

Oh, hey, I found the green space.

I sprang up, scanning the shadowy rooftop, and spun around, heart thumping as I looked for any sign of the imps. There had to be five or six left. I wasn’t sure. Counting was hard.

A blur of matted fur and red appeared in front of me. The imp was too close. I jumped back, grabbing the lounge chair that had just attacked me. Picking it up, I threw it at the imp.

The imp squeaked when the metal chair smacked it in the face. I stopped, never hearing a sound like that come from an imp before. “You sound like a dog toy. It’s kind of cute.”

Swiping the chair aside, it charged me.

I danced to the side, catching the demon in the throat with the dagger. The scent of sulfur choked me as I hobbled over the remains of the chair. “You don’t smell cute, though.” I gagged. “Or look cute at all—”